Has any child in the history of children ever napped when she was supposed to?

Even five years later, I still remember the moment very distinctly. In his dark room, I nursed my two-week-old son. We glided back and forth on his chair, all alone, it felt, in more ways than one.

Guys. What’s uuuuup! I know, I know… I’ve been MIA on this blog for about three days in a row now, which is–shockingly–the longest I’ve gone since starting it up over a year ago.

I said it to my husband last night as I was ready to fall into bed at 11pm. I was bone tired. Just exhausted. And I was losing my temper–frustrated for a number of reasons. The baby had gotten up a total of four times in the past hour. I had a clogged milk duct (ohdearlordhavemercy)…

I joke a lot on this blog about motherhood. I highlight the crazy stuff, I share lots of stories, and overall try to keep it as real as possible. But no matter how much I joke, I hope the truth always shines through–I am crazy in love with my kids.

So, it’s officially Christmas break. Kids! Toys! Dozens of undone tasks on my to-do list!

It’s funny how quickly bad news travels–especially things that aren’t supposed to get back to you. Things that are mean. Inconsiderate. Judgmental. Just all-around crappy.

I don’t have enough phalanges to count the number of times people have asked me why I quit my job in TV news.

Some things you can’t understand until you experience them. Yeah… that’s motherhood.

It occurred to me recently just how very physical being a mom is. Lifting, moving, rocking, nursing, holding, changing them.